The Survivalists
by nutellacat
Summary: The first day of camp isn't exactly how everyone imagined. When trapped inside the cafeteria, Chris explains the teams. Two simple teams: The Survivalists and the Zombies. Little did they know that the zombies on the island were real, and there were more lurking creatures. What will become of the campers? Will they all make it out alive, or be eliminated one by one?


The large, smooth sailing yacht reaches the deck of a long pier. The island behind it looked dilapitated and abandoned. It _was_ abandoned, all for two men standing on the pier waving at the teens on the yacht. The first to spring onto the pier was Tyler, the "sporty" kid of the teens. He attempts to somersault onto the pier, but hits his head and falls into the water. "Ouch, that's gotta hurt!" Chris, the host of the island, says, cringing as Tyler sinks into the water. He's assured that Tyler will be fine, and greets the other teens that begin to climb off board. "Hey, hey, hey! Welcome to Total Drama Island!" Chris says, pointing finger guns at them.

"You call this an island?" a girl with black hair streaked with blue says, crossing her arms and staring at the crappy place. She was decked in all dark clothing: dark blue, dark green, and black corset top with a black mini skirt, black tights, and black, knee high boots.

"Hey, this island is worth more than yo-" Chris stops and clears his throat. "I will be mature about this, I will be mature about this," he mutters, keeping himself calm. The girl decked in nearly all black smirked, and made her way to the edge to let more contestants on the pier. She sits on her black luggage, crossing her legs and relaxing. More contestants arrive, causing the pier to creak. Chris worries they'd fall into the leg, and motions everyone to hurry up. As the last of the contestants leaves the yacht, the floating bit of transportation leaves rather quickly, as if it was keen to leave the island behind. Gwen was the only one know noticed this, but paid it no mind.

"Hey, everyone! As you all know, my name is Chris. And this is Chef, your, uh, chef," he chuckles nervously as the six foot tall, muscular guy grunts. Everyone takes a step back. "I suppose we should all break the ice! Let's have everyone step up and introduce themself!"

"Why do you show us our cabins first? It's gettin' hot up here!" a black girl said, fanning herself with her hand. Beside her was a blonde girl in a blue bandana with a rather revealing shirt.

"Yeah, totally! I'm sweating so much! It's really, really gross!" She says, wiping her forehead and flicking the sweat onto Chris's face by accident. He cringes and wipes it off.

"First of all: ew. Second, fine, whatever you want. Chef, show them the cabins. I'll be in the trailer, since these guests obviously already know what they want," Chris crosses his arms, lifts his chin and talks off like a child. The 'goth' girl scoffs and stands, dragging her luggage after the others who already began making their way down the pier following the chef.

Trent, a kind hearted, soft guy notices her struggling. "Hey, you need help with that?" He asks, catching up with the girl. He lifts up the luggage, but is stopped when a tall figure steps in front of him. It was a green mohawked kid with a skull on his shirt. He lifts the girl's luggage for her. "I got this, sweetheart," the green haired boy says, winking and walking ahead.

"Don't call me sweetheart!" she calls out to him. "But thanks for carrying that for me!" She grins and continues walking, not noticing the boy behind her, standing and scowling at the green-haired boy. He let's go of his anger and catches up to the girl.

Taking a deep breath, he opens his mouth to speak. "Hey," he begins. He was quite nervous talking to her, "I'm Trent." The girl continues walking, looking at him and smiling slightly.

"I'm Gwen," he looks at him more closely, looking at his guitar case strapped on his back. "You play guitar? Sweet!" She says, grinning at him. Trent blushes, happiness surging inside of him. "Well, I'm gonna catch up with the others. See you around, Trent!" Gwen runs as fast as her Doc Marten, Eyelet knee high boots could take her. Trent sighs and stares at her, obviously lost in a fantasy that could never happen. He's snapped out of it when chef yells for him, and fearful of the large man, he hurries and catches up with the rest.

As the chef gathers the contestants around in a clearing, he points to two cabins behind him. "The right cabin is for the girls and the left cabin is for the boys. NOW GET YOUR STINKIN' BUTTS IN THERE!" He yells, scaring the teens. They all rush inside, closing the door behind them. "Now that's how you handle kids." The chef brushes his hands off and continues to his trailer.

"Jeez, that guy is one nut job," the punk looking kid with the green mohawk said. He climbs the ladder and chooses an upper bunk. "I'm Duncan, by the way guys. Don't call me anything else." He says, pointing his fingers at them.

"Yo man, I won't call you anything! Well at least homie, 'cause everyone's my homie!" a blonde kid with a cowboy's hat says. He was quite muscular, particularly in his abs. He chooses an upper bunk as well, on top of a geeky looking boy with glasses.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - time lapse : seven pm - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Spending time together in their cabins broke the ice for most campers. There was tension within the girls, all bickering who got which bunk and why. But after hours of fighting, they finally agreed on something, though reluctantly. "I'm the most popular, so I get the first pick!" Heather said, climbing the ladder to her bunk. She was a 'popular' girl who thought quite highly of herself. She laid in bed, letting the others continue their arguing. In midst of the fighting, Gwen snuck off, pulling her bags and climbing into a bunk. She wasn't fond of heighs and chose the bottom bunk in the back of the room. She began putting up band posters and unpacking as the other's continued their arguing and complaining.

When about every camper was starving and ready to burst out and riot Chris and Chef's trailer, there was a loud announcement from Chris, obviously blown with his megaphone."DINNER TIME, KIDS! EVERYONE TO THE CAFETERIA! And quick, there's a lot of creepy things that come at night..." he speaks the last bit not into the megaphone, so it was unheard by the grumbling campers.

Everyone reaches the cafeteria, right about ready to throw a fit. They were all starving, but got their wishes as Chef came around and filled their plates with a hunk of brown mush. "What the heck is this?!" Heather exclaimed, letting the brown glob fall from her spoon into the bowl.

"It's beans. Now please, quiet down! We'll be diving everyone into teams!" Chris says, motioning the campers to silence themselves. "The two teams will be: the Zombies and the Survivalists." He pauses to let the 'ooh's' and 'ahs' in. "Everyone is a Survivalist... For now," he chuckles, frightening the campers just slightly.

"Are you saying there are _real_ zombies up in this place?" DJ says, quavering with fear. Chris doesn't reply, just simply turns his heel and stares out the window dramatically. Everyone is silent, waiting for his reply.

"Guess you'll find you.." he chuckles, his chuckles crescendoing into loud, maniacal laughter. He stops and looks at them all. "Your first challenge is gonna be a surprise! Eat up and then hit the hay!" he walks to the to where Chef was cooking.

"Hit the hay? Why would we do that?" Lindsay says, not getting the metaphor. She eats the slop, although the "Queen Bee" beside her was staring in disgust. "What?" she asks, mouth filled with brown goo.

As thirty minutes passed, rain began to pound on the windows. The campers stayed inside, breaking the ice and meeting one another. Everyone was getting chummy when all of a sudden, the lights flicked off. Everyone hushed as wood from outside creaked and their was a rhythmic groaning. "Oh my God, it's the zombies!" The geeky kid named Harold said, pointing outside at the shadow in the window. Everyone hushed him but his panic was heard from the outside. The zombies broke the door open, causing everyone to scream. They flooded into the dark, pulling screaming campers outside. The screams stopped and silence filled the room. The door shut by a dark shadow and eventually the lights turned back on. There was blood on the ground which led to the door outside.

"Who did they take?"  
"Was anyone bitten?"  
"Oh my God, there really are zombies!"

After panicked murmurs and worried voices, Duncan stood on a table and yelled for everyone to shut up. "They took that Ezekial kid and that scary European chick, Eva or whatever," he says, lowering his height by standing on seats. "We all need to go back to our cabins and pack our belongings. I don't think it's safe here."

"Who cares what you think?" Trent says, feeling quite competitive with the delinquent. He scoffs and stands on the other table. "I say we stay here. We have food, weapons, and it's more spacious. Plus, everyone is together so we can keep track of each other." He looks at Duncan, raising a brow and giving a challenging smirk.

"Look, I think we should all just stay here and wait for Chris or Chef to tell us what's going on," a brown girl said, sleeves rolled up in her grey sweater. Her name was Courtney, and was one of those bickering girls back in the cabins.

"I don't think Chris and Chef could answer our questions," Gwen said, pointing at two silhouettes in the kitchen. The bodies of Chef and Chris were disfigured and zombie like, and their groans proved it true that they were bitten or scratched by the zombies. "Chris was kidding!" Gwen ran to the kitchen door and barricaded it with a bench. "We all need to get off this island. I can't believe they were crazy enough to bring us here!"

"He probably didn't think the zombies were real, man. Probably thought they were props or somethin'," Geoff, the muscle man says, shrugging." He looks to the windows. "But, real or not, we need to get out here! Pronto!" He points to a shattered window, an arm crawling into the cafeteria. Everyone screamed, and the lights flickered out once more.

* * *

**How is it so far? I don't know if I'll continue to make it a serious story unless I get some reviews. It was just an idea I'm posting up! Tell me what you guys think in the reviews! Constructive criticism welcomed! c: **


End file.
